Ella Wolfe and the Philosopher's Sunday Afternoon Musings
by Erin Stone
Summary: Ella Wolfe has lived in an orphanage for her entire life, never knowing that her ability to see and influence other's emotions is magic. One day a man comes and brings her to an English school called Hogwarts, where she befriends Albus Potter, the son of famous Harry Potter. Adventure ensues.
1. Prologue

_It was a warm summer night, quiet, with hardly a breeze stirring the heavy air. The only thing that moved was a small man in a black cloak. His appearance was at odds with the peaceful atmosphere; his light brown hair and shoulders were damp, though there was not a cloud in sight. His wide, frightened eyes darted around nervously as he walked and his posture was stiff and tense, quite unlike the calmly slumbering inhabitants of the neighborhood. The man halted abruptly, seeming to make a split-second decision. He turned towards the front gate of a very large and very old orphanage. The gate was locked, but he drew a thin stick of wood from inside his sleeve and tapped the rusted metal. The gate opened silently and he walked swiftly up the path. He stopped at the door, seeming frozen with indecision. His musings were broken suddenly by a small noise across the street. He threw a sharp glace over his shoulder, then withdrew a small bundle from inside his robes. Kneeling, the man placed the bundle carefully on the front step. The baby inside murmured and he did what he had avoided doing that whole evening: he looked down at her. Half of her face was hidden in the folds of the fabric. A single tear fell onto her pink cheek, but the man quickly wiped it away. What he could see of her face was angelic, slumbering away with her eyelid covering a perfect lavender eye and a small smile curving her shell-pink lips. She was tiny, barely larger than a loaf of bread. He couldn't leave her, she was too small. The tears started to flow from his eyes more quickly. If he didn't leave her, he was sure that she would die. Better to live in an orphanage than die outside of it. His face hardened. He had made his decision, and he was going to stick with it. He bent down and kissed her quickly of the forehead, slipping a small piece of paper into her blankets. Then he turned and walked away, closing the gate behind him. Inside the baby's blankets, the piece of paper bore the only identity she would have for the next eleven years. In narrow, curly writing, the paper bore two words._

 _Ella Wolfe._


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Ella Wolfe paused in the front hall of the Quebec orphanage in which she lived. She stood before a seldom-used room off to the side. When people came, they filled this room with furniture and hung nice drapes and called it the sitting room. At other times, when it was empty and cold with white stone walls and grey stone floors, it was the quiet room. They used it for punishment. Sometimes you were put in there for a few hours, but the time could stretch to days. Ella had to put all of her weight into pushing open the heavy metal door that they could not disguise. It swung slowly shut behind her, latching with an ominous click that for her had always been the prelude to hours of pain. She supressed a shiver at the memory of the time they had found her on the roof, and she was put in the room.

For now, a couch was pushed up in front of the tap that was the only source of water in the room, and they had removed the chamber pot. For all of the world, it looked like a perfectly nice place; but Ella could still feel the evil lingering. She stood silently with her back to the door, watching the smiling man in the armchair. He looked very sharp in a pinstripe vest and pants, a light blue collared shirt and shiny black shoes. Brown hair sat neatly combed atop his head.

Ella could tell that he was a nice person, brave and true. As she observed him, he observed her. She was a tiny little wisp of a thing, smaller than most eleven-year-olds, with thin bones. Despite her size, she managed to look older than her years, with a stern face that said she had seen a lot. He sensed a tiny ferocity in her, like a pixie. She did look like the muggle version of a pixie, anyway, with large eyes, a small pointed chin, and very slightly pointed ears. She wore her black hair quite short, parted on the right side, the bangs sweeping over her left eye. He could only see her right eye, which was a shocking shade of lavender that he had never seen on anyone else. She wore a plain grey T-shirt tucked into faded blue jeans. That seemed to be the uniform here, as the other children playing in the yard wore the same thing. Though she stayed by the door, she did not look afraid. Instead, she looked right into his eyes, a curiosity half-hidden beneath careful watchfulness.

Ella was the first to speak.

"Bonjour", she said quietly. The man walked over to shake her hand.

"Hello. You do speak English?"

"Oui… I do", she whispered with a thick French accent. She did speak English, but her first language was French.

"Good, good! Come, sit down." He patted her shoulder good-naturedly, then sat himself back down in the armchair. He had an English accent.

"Now, I'm Professor Longbottom. I've come from a school in England called Hogwarts."

Ella stared at him. She was scheduled to enter St. Theresa's School for Girls in the fall. That was where all of the girls from the orphanage went for secondary school.

Professor Longbottom smiled at her confusion.

"I know that it must come as a bit of a surprise, but I want you to know that our school looks for talent all over the world, and we've had our eye on you for a while."

Ella thought about that, and wondered what exact talent she had that they wanted. She got fairly good marks in school, but it was nothing spectacular. Professor Longbottom glanced suddenly at the door, then got up, pulling a thin stick of wood from his sleeve. It looked unremarkable, but Ella could sense great power coming from it. He gave it a little wave, and Ella could feel something cloaking the room, like dust settling. Professor Longbottom slipped the stick back up his sleeve, then sat back down and smiled.

"Now we won't be overheard", he said in response to Ella's bewildered stare. "Now what I'm about to tell you must not leave this room, understand?"

Ella nodded.

"The full name of my school is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am a wizard, and you are a witch." He paused for a moment to let that sink in. Ella wondered if the caretakers at the orphanage would let some crazy loon in, and decided that, if that crazy loon was willing to take a child away, they probably would. Then again, she could detect no trace of sickness in him.

"What … is a witch?" asked Ella, stumbling only slightly over the English words.

Professor Longbottom smiled again. He seemed to do that a lot.

"A witch is a girl who has been gifted with magical powers. On her own she can sometimes do small things, like fly short distances, but with a wand, she can do enormous things."

Ella looked at the sleeve in which his wand was concealed. Now that she knew what it was, she could sense a faint pulse coming from it, like a heartbeat.

"With proper training, of course", he added hastily.

"I do not zink that I 'ave ever flown", Ella said after a long pause. She couldn't remember ever doing anything magical, except for the one thing.

"Well, the Ministry of Magic can detect use of magic from underage witches and wizards, and they have found rather a lot of it coming from you." Professor Longbottom looked pleased with this assessment of her abilities.

Ella rubbed a small scar on the back of her hand unconsciously. It was very difficult for her to think in this room, this room of pain and torture.

"I can read people's 'earts, you know", she said suddenly. "Can other people do zat?"

Professor Longbottom, for the first time, looked a little bit surprised. "What exactly do you mean by that?" he asked, his brows pulling together slightly.

"It is 'ard to describe." Ella said slowly. She looked unsurprised at his confusion. "I see… or sense, an aura, an _atmosphère_ about people. I can tell what kind of _personne_ zey are. I can tell 'ow zey are feeling right now. If zey are feeling a very strong emotion, I can almost tell zeir thoughts. It is not just sight, either. It is all of my senses. I can smell it. I can _feel_ it. People's auras rub off on objects, too, and places. Especially if someone 'as a strong emotional connection to something. Zis orphanage used to be an asylum, you know. Zey don't tell us zat, but I can tell. Someone died in zis room. A patient. 'E killed another patient, and ze caretakers killed 'im trying to subdue 'im. I can smell 'is blood. I can 'ear 'is screams."

Ella paused for breath. She was shaking slightly. Professor Longbottom was shocked at the stream of English. He hadn't thought that she could speak that much. He got the feeling from the stream of words that she had never told this to anyone, and it just burst out.

"You're surprised." She said, her violet eye almost glowing. Professor Longbottom blinked. "You're zinking: What is zis girl? Is she really a witch at all?" added Ella, smiling as Professor Longbottom blinked again.

"Actually, I was thinking that the Ministry of Magic could have told me that before sending me off here."

"Oh, well. I was really only guessing, anyway", said Ella, leaning back in her chair and revealing the first smile Professor Longbottom had seen. She was definitely a strange girl.

"Well, in any case, the Ministry had identified you as a witch, and we at Hogwarts would love to have you", he stated in a businesslike manner.

Ella was back to rubbing the scar on her hand. "I don't 'ave any money for school, and ze orphanage 'asn't either." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose.

"Not to worry, the school has a program for students in just your situation!" Professor Longbottom bit his lip. "As a matter of fact, an old wizard recently died and left all of his money to sending, er, students through school!" His words rang false, and Ella could see from his aura that he was lying, but she ignored it. What did she care where the money came from, as long as it was there?

"Now, I'll just have to speak to your caretakers, and I'll be off. School starts on September the first, but I'll be coming to get you two weeks before that, to buy your school things. You'll have to stay in England until term starts. Is that all right?" he looked nervously at the blank expression on Ella's face. Ella smiled again and carefully nudged his aura, and his worry disappeared. She hadn't told him that she could influence others' auras. That was best. Professor Longbottom grinned and marched to the door, pulling it open with a great tug, "Come on, then!" he said, then waited for her to walk through the door. The head caretaker, Mrs. Cook, shooed her outside and then turned, smiling and fluttering her eyelashes at Professor Longbottom. Ella walked outside, her heart fluttering like a bird. She was a witch, and she was going to Hogwarts. Several limp flowers in the neglected flowerbeds seemed to perk up as she walked past, but she didn't notice.

Ella Wolfe, the witch. Nothing could make her happier.


End file.
